


Hot-Head

by boydivision



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bottom Frank Iero, Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming, Van Days, light d/s themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:45:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6262786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boydivision/pseuds/boydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based very loosely on the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJrO_XRx0C0">mcr fight video</a> and what I'd like to think happened after they got home from the party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot-Head

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [Samantha](http://frankyourdeath.tumblr.com) for being my beta and biggest cheerleader and [Elena](http://mikeywvy.tumblr.com) for encouraging me throughout!
> 
> I started writing this fic 4 years ago and promptly abandoned it. It took me like over a month to finish it once I picked it back up, for some reason, but I'm happy to finally finish it and be happy with what I've written. This is my first fic ever so please be gentle, but I do appreciate concrit!

The party is fucking ridiculous. Frank can tell that Gerard's already had too much to drink and that makes Frank pretty mad because Gerard is his property; his business. He told Gerard he could only have three drinks before they went home because he wanted Gerard to remember Frank having his way with him. So there's one of the reasons Frank is pissed off. Another reason on Frank's list of why he's currently an angry drunk is the fact that some motherfucker keeps shoving this camera in his face and Frank is just not okay with that shit. 

So, Frank's pretty agitated and the alcohol is making his head feel a little like his brain is pushing just this side of too hard on his skull and he's had about enough of this fucking party when he hears Ray behind him whining "Gerard, don't. Just drop it."

This is enough to catch Frank's attention and he turns around to see Gerard looking at Ray like someone took his candy and Ray looking back with one of his signature 'you know I'm right' looks. Frank wraps his arms around Gee’s waist and snuggles his face into the side of his arm. He get’s more sweet and cuddly when he’s drunk than he’d admit to anyone.  He’s got the punk, drunk, and angry reputation to uphold, afterall.

“We should go home soon. You’ve had too much to drink,” Frank says, adding just enough edge to the words so that Gerard understands his meaning.

The guy that Frank assumes is the guy Gerard was starting something with- he looks like he might be one of Mikey’s friends, which is probably the best bet since the kid is fucking friends with  _ everyone _ \- aborts his conversation with Ray to stare bamboozledly at Gerard.

“Oh,” he says, sounding angry, with a tone of revelation in his voice. “ _ Oh.  _ You think you can tell me what to do?! Did anyone else hear this guy criticize  _ my  _ choices?” He looks around with a face of utter astonishment on his face.

“Gee, what’s going on?” Frank asks.

“Earlier I told him that his shirt was disrespectful to women,” Gerard mutters and all that Frank can think is  _ ‘of fucking course you did’.  _

“Yea, that’s right,” says Bamboozled Guy. “That’s fucking right. This faggot thinks he can tell  _ me  _ what to do with  _ my  _ life. What a fucking joke,” he says and he turns around and Frank thinks that maybe it’s over but Gerard just has to start talking again because he’s probably got some noble cause and also because he’s Gerard and he doesn’t know when to stop talking.  _ Ever _ . Frank knows his heart is in the right place, obviously, but some of Mikey’s friends are a little questionable and Frank just wants to get home and have awesome sex and continuing an argument about a fucking  _ shirt _ is not going to expedite that process.

“No,” Gerard says. “You can’t just degrade women like that. Just because I fuck dudes does  _ not  _ mean I don’t appreciate women, ‘cause I fucking  _ do,  _ okay? I’m fucking sick of all you straight guys getting offended, because I have a fucking  _ boyfriend.  _ And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole anyway, you fucking doucher, so sit the fuck down,” Gerard spits with malice. 

Frank just expects Bamboozled Guy to just brush him off and carry on with his own business because getting in an argument with Gerard is basically never worth it. Been there, done that. But it’s Frank's turn to look bamboozled when the guy takes his fist to Gerard’s face. Gerard’s pretty fucking face. Frank goes from confused to shocked to absolutely  _ enraged  _ in about 2 seconds flat because Gerard is his and nobody gets to touch him like that. Not even Frank.

In a moment of blinding fury, Frank manages to get out “Fucker!” before he pretty much tackles the guy. He get’s a few good shots to the guy’s stupid bamboozled fucking face before Ray is in on the action and hauling Frank off of the guy.

“Frank, come on, this asshole isn’t worth it,” Ray says, trying to be the voice of reason in the midst of all this shit.

“No, Ray. Fuck no! Did you see that little shit? He hit fucking  _ Gerard _ ! He hit Gerard and he’s gonna fucking pay,” Frank spews with a level of rage that shouldn’t be able to fit into someone that small. He can barely see straight, he’s so angry. If we’re being honest, his blood alcohol content probably has something to do with the vision, but this is his boyfriend. They have a lot of sex - rough and often - but Frank loves Gerard to death and would be totally lost without him. Fuck, without the band. It’s really unlikely that Gerard’s going to die from a punch to the face but Frank can’t  _ help _ it, can’t help his brain from jumping to the worst conclusions. He’s drunk and pissed off and kind of scared, too. He’s got so many emotions racing through him. He strains at Ray’s grasp, but Ray holds strong. 

“Baby, stop it,” Gerard says from behind them, and Frank turns around. Gerard is standing there, a little slumped over, with a hand lightly on his face where he was hit, and Frank instantly lightens up; stops straining so hard against Ray’s arms. “I’m okay, see?” Gerard says, lifting his hand from his face to prove his point. “I probably won’t even bruise,” he smiles like anything about this situation is okay.

“Gee, he  _ punched _ you! In the  _ fucking _ face!,” Frank yells, probably too loudly, as he continues to struggle against Ray’s arms. Bamboozled  _ Asshat _ is starting to get up from the ground, his friends helping him up as they had walked outside some point during the altercation. 

“What’s going on here?” says one of the guy’s friends, seeing the blood slowly trickling out of his friend’s ugly, bamboozled face. “You need us to rough any of these fuckers up?”

“No! No roughing needed I think we’ll just be on our way,” Ray says, just trying to get the hell out of dodge and deal with his friends who have  _ clearly _ had more to drink than he has. However, as is par for the course when dealing him, Frank has other plans. 

“Fuck that, Ray. Let go of me,” Frank grits out and he struggles against Ray’s arms which are still locked tight around him. Ray probably hasn’t lifted a day in his life but guitar is pretty much Ray’s religion and it’s given him some pretty impressive muscles, Frank will admit. Eventually, Frank stops struggling to get away from Ray’s arms and slides down, quickly. The movement isn’t something he’s expecting and he doesn’t react quick enough. There’s just enough of a delay in his reaction that Frank is able to slide free of his much taller friend’s grasp and march up to the group of assholes he’s just drunk enough to believe he might be able to fight. 

Ray really,  _ really _ fucking deserves an award for putting up with this shit single-handedly. Being in the band is a lot like being a babysitter for a bunch of sailor-mouthed toddlers. At least only two of those toddlers are in his care right now since Mikey is almost definitely getting laid and Otter is either passed out in the van or getting lucky, himself, with the merch girl for the opening band he’s been eyeing pretty creepily all night. 

Frank doesn’t really have a plan, doesn’t know what he’s going to say or do, but his blood is positively boiling in his veins, now. Any insult you’ve got, Frank’s probably been on the receiving end of it at least twice.  Being short, gay, and the only kid wearing all black in high school will do that to you. The point is, that shit doesn’t bother him at all, it slides right off his back and into the nearest garbage can because he  _ doesn’t care _ . But if he cares about anything, it’s Gerard, and Frank won’t let anyone call his boyfriend a faggot, let alone fucking  _ hit _ him. So if this had all been aimed at Frank, they’d be outta here already, on their way back to the apartment they just started renting together for their time off tour. But it’s Gerard, and Frank is not letting that shit happen without getting a last word in.

Just as he gets up to the guys, he realizes that all of the other people who had been outside when this started are sort of hovering around them, getting wind of what’s going on. He sees a bunch of people on their way out of the house, too, camera guy trailing behind them for fuck knows what reason. They all realize that they’re gaining some real notoriety in the scene and that they’ve kind of reached local legend status in Jersey, but it’s still a little weird. However, Frank’s been known to put on a show, and now that he has an audience, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He walks straight up to Bamboozled Dickwad and presses his index finger threateningly (at least Frank’s buzzed brain thinks so) at the guy’s chest.

“Don’t you  _ ever _ fucking lay a hand on my boyfriend again. I don’t want to see you speak to him, I don’t even want to see you look at him. If I ever find out that you’re even on the same damn city  _ block _ as him after this shit I will personally see to it that you don’t have the eyes or the hands to anymore to put on him if you even wanted to,” Frank almost growls at the guy before spitting on his shoes. Bamboozled Dude pushes at Frank’s chest, knocking him backwards. His face isn’t really bamboozled, anymore. It hasn’t been for a few minutes but Frank doesn’t know the guy’s name, doesn’t really care to, and he’s got the whole bamboozled thing really stuck in his head now.

“Back off, tiny tim, I could probably kill you  _ and _ your butt buddy with one hand, so I wouldn’t start,” he says threateningly. That really does it for Frank. The bamboozled dude has threatened Gerard one too many times so Frank just pushes him back. It seems like a small gesture, but Frank kind of hung out with the wrong crowd in high school, got into enough fights to know that his push in return is confirmation. They’re going to really fight and Frank is ready. That is, until he feels a sharp tug on one of his belt loops.

“Frankie, please stop. We can just leave, it’s fine,” Gerard almost begs. He looks kind of scared and he’s got the faint beginnings of a black eye. Unfortunately for Gerard, that only fuels Frank’s fire as he turns back and starts to lift his fists. 

What happens next feels a lot like slow motion to everyone. Ray runs in between Frank and Bamboozled Dude, trying to break the fight up before it even starts, but as soon as he’s got a hand on Bamboozled Dude’s chest to push him and Frank away from each other, a fist comes out of nowhere and hits Ray square in the jaw. After that, all hell breaks loose in a matter of milliseconds. Ray flails his arms in the direction of his attacker but Bamboozled Douche pushes him out of the way, trying to get to Frank. Ray collides with someone behind him and that’s about the last anyone knows of who’s hitting who.

It’s a sudden flurry of bodies and fists, colliding with whatever’s closest, and Frank sort of stands there just watching it all since he’s on the outside of the flying mass of people. He didn’t think that things like this really happened outside of dramatic movies and cartoons, but it’s happening right in front of his eyes. In a moment of sudden panic, he realizes that Gerard is nowhere to be found, he’s not behind frank like he was previously. His first thought is that he must have been sucked into what’s looking like one giant, drunken fight. He wills his semi-drunken eyes to focus as he scouts out his stupid boyfriend. His stupid, pretty, boyfriend who pretty much caused this entire fight in the first place. He takes a minute to roll his eyes before returning his search to the sea of flailing bodies because of fucking  _ course _ a 50-person fight would break out at a house party all thanks to Gerard.

A few seconds later, he spots him; a tangled mess of dirty, black-dyed hair whipping through the air as Gerard tries to find an escape route. From where he’s standing, Frank can see the the bruise under Gerard’s eye has gotten slightly darker, a sign that he’ll probably have a full-on shiner by the next day, which will probably hang around for a while. Frank’s going to be pissed the fuck off every time he sees it. Gerard is going to have to have so much fucking sex with him to make up for it. Neither of them has ever understood why Frank’s need for rough sex and his anger are completely connected, but neither of them has ever had a reason to question it, either. It works for them. Frank’s kind of a hot-head, gets angry pretty easily, and if he needs to be fucked six ways from Sunday to take the edge off of that anger, Gerard’s not really going to complain about it. 

Frank’s about to brave his way through the bloodied knuckles and split lips to pull him out of there when Bamboozled Fucking Cunt and a few of his buddies stumble into view, one of them sporting a crooked, bloody nose that Frank might have admired if the circumstances were different. One of them stumbles back, hitting Gerard who cowers and covers his face. Frank kind of wants to cry, kind of wants to unleash the fucking bats on all of these motherfucks, kind of needs Gerard’s dick, like, right now. Bamboozled Shitdick’s friend turns around and they realize who he’s run into, their faces twisting up in sick, bloody smiles. Frank’s glued in place, terrified for what’s about to happen, feet frozen as he tries to get himself to fucking  _ move  _ and pull Gerard the fuck out of here, all the way home to the safety of their bed. Well, safe from these guys. Frank’s fury is making no fucking promises. 

In the next second, a large group of swarming, pushing, punching people flies into view and before Frank can even process what’s happening, everyone goes down. The group runs into Bamboozled Dude & co. who run into Gerard and with no one in the immediate vicinity for him to run into, as well, he’s on the ground. Bamboozled Dude and his friends lose their balance once Gerard falls and they fall, too. The group that started the horrifying chain reaction that Frank is witnessing, in what feels like slow motion, topple over on top of everyone and it’s in that moment that Frank finally snaps out of his trance and almost trips over himself, rushing to get Gerard out from the bottom of an eight or nine-person pile-up.

“Fuck!” he shouts under his breath and he sees Ray running to Gerard’s aid as well. Ray must have seen the whole thing happen, too. Frank felt - more than noticed - Ray walk up beside him while Frank was frozen in place. They reach the pile where the people on top are trying to untangle themselves and get off all of the people underneath them. Fight or not, no one is actively trying to kill anyone tonight.

Frank and Ray reach the pile, pushing Bamboozled Fuck & Friends out of the way, trying to get to Gerard. Ray heaves the last guy off of Gerard and Frank grabs Gerard around the shoulders, trying to lift him off the ground. The back of Gerard’s hands are scraped up from the way he tried to cover his face when he went down, avoiding any more serious injuries like a broken nose or split lip. Frank’s kind of glad, because if anything else happened to Gerard’s face tonight, he probably wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from setting the entire motherfucking house and surrounding shrubbery on fire and making Gerard fuck him hard while they watched from a safe distance. 

Once Gerard is up and stable on his feet, Frank presses a quick, searing kiss to his lips and says “We’re leaving.  _ Now _ .”

Gerard nods quickly at Frank, wanting to get the fuck out of there, but also knowing exactly what’s waiting for him when they get home. Frank turns and spots Ray standing just behind them, all parts of the giant fight now breaking up, and Bamboozled Dude and his friends finally start walking back to the house, realizing that it’s over and that some of them might need medical attention.

“You need a ride?” Frank asks. “We’re headed out now. I think Mikey and Otter are either already gone or staying here.”

“Nah, I’m alright. I was talking to this cool chick inside and I think she’s gonna take me back to see her vinyl collection. Thanks, though, Frankie. Take care of yourselves,” Ray says, and the statement has weight. Frank knows there’s a number of meanings behind what Ray is saying and he takes them to heart. 

Frank says “I know. Thanks, man,” and starts dragging Gerard towards the van. He’s already got a semi and half an idea to get this over with right here and now, but tour’s over and he wants to fuck in a real bed for the first time in weeks.

“You got the keys, Gee?” Franks akss.

“Yep,” Gerard replies as he unlocks the doors.

“Get us the fuck home, then.”

*

As soon as the door to their crappy studio apartment is open, Frank’s got his hands threaded through Gerard’s dirty, black hair, licking into his mouth like his life depends on it while he kicks the door closed and tries to stumble them over to their bed, flicking on the light as they pass the switch on the way there. 

“Don’t you  _ ever _ fucking let someone touch you like that again, okay? I don’t care if they insult Mikey or your mom or fucking Morrissey, you keep your mouth shut and you don’t start shit with people,” he gets out between intense, biting kisses. “They don’t get to have you like that.”

“I know, Frankie,” Gerard mumbles as Frank starts yanking at his shirt, trying to pull it off of him. “Didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t happen again,” He says against his boyfriend’s cheek, said boyfriend now looking down trying to get both of their pants off.

“You’re fucking right it won’t,” Frank says, clearer now. They’re both naked, hard dicks pressed against each of their stomachs and fiery want burning in both of their eyes. He reaches his hand up to Gerard’s face, brushing over the ever-darkening bruise under Gerard’s eye in a soft moment before all of the rage and lust rush back over him.

“Get on the bed. Lay down.” Frank commands, pushing Gerard a little to enhance his words. 

Gerard scrambles backwards, laying back on the bed but propping himself up on his elbows so he can see what Frank is doing. He climbs on the bed with Gerard, tugging his hair as he kisses him, grinding his dick against Gerard; the slick, sweaty slide so familiar but so fucking hot, just like every time they’re together. 

“You’re gonna get me ready, Gee, okay?” Frank says as he moves to bite and suck on Gerard’s neck, pinching his right nipple and twisting it between his fingers. He bites Gerard’s earlobe, and blows hot air into it, making him squirm and let out a stuttered, shaky breath. “You’re gonna get me begging for your cock, right?”.

“Yea, yea, whatever you want baby,” Gerard gets out, his hands roaming all over Frank’s small frame.

Frank sits up and turns around, his ass in Gerards face as he settles back down and grabs Gerard’s cock, hot and heavy in his hand, before licking a long stripe from base to tip. Gerard lets out another shaky breath that hits Frank’s ass in all the right ways, making him eager to circle his tongue around the head of Gerard’s cock before sinking down as far as he can on the first go. Frank fucking loves sucking dick, it gets him all worked up, even hornier and more ready for the feeling of it in his ass that he knows is still to come. He’s playing with Gerard’s balls, deep-throating as well as he can when he feels Gerard’s hands tug his hips backwards, his pretty, pixie nose pressing in between Frank’s ass cheeks as Gerard places a hand on each of them and spreads him open. Frank groans around Gerard’s dick at the first press of his tongue to his hole, but keeps going, sucking him down like he’s spent a month in the desert and Gerard’s dick is the first sign of water.

Behind him, Gerard’s tongue is lightly trailing up and around Frank’s hole, fluttering against it before really diving in. Gerard is giving him these long, wet licks, tongue dipping in just slightly. He spreads Frank’s ass cheeks a little more, moaning into his ass before starting to fuck Frank with his tongue, just breaching his hole a little more each time. Frank’s thighs are shaking with it and he’s leaking precome all over Gerard’s chest when he pulls off his dick and scrapes his nails along the inside of Gerard’s thighs.

“Fingers.  _ Now _ , Gee,” he rasps, throat sore from Gerard’s cock and his jaw aching with it.

Frank’s hole is already pretty wet and he’s no stranger to fingers, dicks, and dildos of varying sizes in his ass, but Gerard likes to make everything as smooth as possible. They fuck a lot, but Gerard always gets him ready the right way, making sure the only thing either of them feel is pleasure. The only pain they ever inflict upon each other is intentional and they have a safe word, just in case, but neither of them has ever had to use it. Frank hears the familiar pop of the cap on their go-to lube and feels two of Gerard’s long, artist fingers slip past his rim, covered in the cool gel and making a shiver run up his spine, goosebumps appearing on his skin. It’s a combination of the cold temperature of the lube and the feel of finally having something in his ass that he can rock back on that make Frank let out a low moan. All Frank can do is half-heartedly pet Gerard’s dick while he grinds his ass down against the press of Gerard’s fingers inside him. Gerard tugs Frank’s hips back again, pushing his fingers in faster while he adds his tongue to the equation, licking around the rim and feeling the way his fingers are stretching Frank out, just slightly.

Frank bites the inside of Gerard’s thigh, quick and hard, before saying “More...come on, more, I need it, stretch me,” and then a sharp “Fuck!” As Gerard pulls them out, gets some more lube and thrusts three fingers back in with little preamble. His left hand is holding Frank’s ass open and he’s watching the way his fingers slide easily in and out. Gerard’s dick is leaking all over the place but he knows that what’s to come is worth the wait, it always is. 

“Can you take another finger, baby?” Gerard purrs and presses a kiss to the crease where Frank’s ass meets his thigh.

Frank stops his rocking and moves forward, making Gerard’s fingers slip out of him and leaving him feeling open and empty.

“You fucking know I can, but I don’t need it. I wanna feel you. I’m gonna make  _ you _ feel it,” Frank says, rambling and making little sense. “You’re mine and they can’t touch you like that, got it?” Frank moves to straddle Gerard and places his knees on either side of Gerard’s hips. He scrapes a nail down Gerard’s chest, leaving a bright pink line in it’s wake; vibrant against the stark white of his skin. 

Gerard shifts and Frank can see the black and blue under Gerard’s eye better than ever. It makes his insides curl and his dick twitch. He places his hand at the base of Gerard’s neck and presses, just lightly. “I said, ‘got it?’”

Gerard’s hips buck up and he moans out “Got it, Frankie, I got it just sit on my dick, finally, Christ.”

Frank’s in one of his special moods where that kind of thing from Gerard just isn’t going to fly. His hand moves from Gerard’s throat to his hair, tangling itself in the strands and pulling back sharply. He moves forward, his lips brushing on Gerard’s ear when he speaks.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do,” he grits out and Gerard lets out a hybrid between a laugh and a moan because in the same instance, Frank lines himself up and starts sinking down on Gerard’s dick, his hand still holding a vice grip on Gerard’s greasy locks. Frank was going to start riding Gerard any minute anyway, but it’s really the principle of the matter. When Frank’s in a mood, he’s not interested in being told what to do, even if it’s exactly what he plans on doing. There are other, different times when Frank will lie on his back and let Gerard fuck the life out of him, let him do whatever he wants. This isn’t one of those times.

Frank lets go of Gerard’s hair and pulls back, sitting up as he lets Gerard slip fully inside him. He hums a noise of deep satisfaction before planting his feet on the bed on either side of Gerard’s hips. He places a hand on Gerard’s stomach and braces himself as lifts up and almost off of Gerard’s cock, before slamming himself back down. They both let out loud moans at the feeling, Gerard running his hands up and down Frank’s thighs as he set up a pace, bouncing up and down on Gerards dick and making the mattress creak below them. 

They both know that neither of them are going to last long, from here. Frank’s dick has been begging for attention practically since Gerard was first punched in the face earlier. He continues fucking himself on Gerard and moves on of his hands up to press just this side of too harsh at the base of Gerard’s neck. Gerard moans and throws his head back, dirty black hair splayed over the pillow. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, letting out little noises every time Frank drops back down, filling himself up with Gerard’s thick cock.

Frank moves his other hand to his own aching cock, spitting in his palm before setting up a rhythm that matches that of his hips. When Gerard does open his eyes, it’s really a sight to behold. Frank’s small body curled up, Gerard’s dick sliding in and out of him while he fists his own dick, his mouth wet and slick with spit, hanging open the way it does when they’re on stage; it’s the real reason he’s always got at least a semi when they’re playing but he’ll never tell any of the guys that, not even Frank. 

Frank’s letting out these little whispers of “mine” every time he comes back down on Gerard’s cock. 

“Mine...mine….mine...oh, fuck, Gee, I’m gonna….fuck!” Frank babbles as his movements get less and less coordinated. Frank’s hand speeds up on his dick and he bottoms out on Gerard’s dick once more before he throws his head back and and comes all over his knuckles and Gerard’s stomach. His chest heaves and he smiles, blissed out. 

When he comes back to himself, he feels Gerard’s hips moving slightly, beneath him, trying to achieve his own orgasm. Frank is more than willing to help and gets himself situated, starting his movements back up, fucking himself on Gerard’s dick with even more aggression that before. He starts up a rhythm of pulling himself up and almost off of Gerard’s dick, the head almost popping out of Frank’s rim before dropping himself back down, hard. The sensation of Frank’s ass sliding so smooth, but still so tightly on his dick is making him lose his breath.

“You gonna come for me, Gee? You fucking love it when I ride you like this, make you mine. I want you to come, Gee. I wanna fucking feel it,” Frank mumbles at Gerard as he pulls out all the stops, breathing in Gerard’s ear, biting at his neck, running his fingers around Gerard’s nipples. “I wanna feel you fill me up, Gee, come on. Come for me.”

Gerard gets a hold on Frank’s hips and takes over for him, thrusting up a few more times before burying himself fully in Frank’s ass and letting his orgasm wash over him. Frank feels the heat of Gerard’s come in his ass as he continues his litany of ‘mine, mine, mine’ in Gerard’s ear.

They both lay there for a minute, drained completely of any energy to move. When he feels Gerard going soft and slipping out of his ass, Frank gets up off the bed and gets a wash cloth wet with warm water. He brings it over to Gerard and cleans them up as best as he can before throwing it off into the corner of the room. He’s still slightly buzzed and figures that it can be dealt with tomorrow.

Frank pulls the covers up over them and Gerard turns to face him, his pretty face honest and open. Frank brings up one hand, brushing it over the bruise beneath Gerard’s eye. 

“You’re mine,” he whispers as Gerard’s eyes fall closed. For a minute he thinks Gerard is already asleep, but a minute later he hears Gerard’s tired and tipsy response.

“Yours.”


End file.
